The Stork Works in Strange Ways
by Kinsey Adelaide
Summary: before reboot slight AU Dick starts a family under highly unusual circumstances
1. Chapter 1

**The Stork Works in Strange Ways**

**This story is a bit more serious than much of my other stuff. **

**A warning/heads-up: There will be discussion of reproductive rights, technology, etc.**

**This takes place in the future. Somewhat AU but mostly in line with things before the reboot. Everyone lives at Wayne Manor for three reasons: 1) it's easier for me; 2) there's no way Dick (as Gotham's Paris Hilton) can get his own apartment in the bad part of town without causing suspicion; and 3) it's better for the environment. Wayne Manor must use so many resources to heat and cool itself that the least the family can do is cram it full of people in an effort to lower their per person carbon footprint. **

* * *

It started out like every other Tuesday morning in recent history. The guys all eating breakfast together, the dining room looking like a tailor's shop had exploded in it.

Damian, now fifteen, had on his uniform for Gotham Academy. Bruce and the rest of the boys had on suits for another day at Wayne Enterprises.

Tim was working at WayneTech, which he was being groomed to eventually take over. Jason was working at Wayne Aerospace, designing military weapons; he would eventually take over that division. Dick meanwhile, spent most of his time shadowing Bruce. He had some sort of job as a "vice president," but really Bruce was training Dick to be the consummate businessman. It wasn't hard; Dick was good at business, even without a college degree. He was good at making deals, good at marketing, and, most important, he was good at leading projects. He was a born leader, where Bruce was not. Dick had all the people skills of a great CEO; even Lucius had said so on more than one occasion. Damian, of course, liked to insist that he would one day take over all of Wayne Enterprises, but everyone knew that was never going to happen. Damian's personality was always going to be too caustic to effectively run a major corporation. People just didn't particularly want to work with Damian. That was why Bruce had decided Dick should eventually take over as "head" (really the boys would share the company equally): he had the necessary leadership skills, the sterling moral character to remain true to the Wayne family's vision, and he was the only one capable of keeping his brothers in line.*

As they munched on their pancakes, everyone read their designated section of the newspaper. Jason had the comics, Damian the Business section, Tim the technology section, Dick local news, and Bruce the front page.

Jason chuckled. "Man, that Hagar the Horrible. That guy's the shit."

"You're an idiot, Todd," Damian snapped. "Stop polluting our ears with your banalities."

"Stop polluting my life with your existence," Jason retorted, earning a high-five from Tim.

"Guys, stop it," Dick pleaded as Bruce ignored them.

"Yes, Mom," Jason cracked. Damian, to express his displeasure, threw a blueberry at Dick. Dick, however, caught it neatly in his mouth, which reminded Damian…

"Dick, don't forget you agreed to chaperone my biology class field trip to Sea World next week. I need you to fill out this confirmation form." He slid the form across the table. #

Dick whipped out a pen, filled out the form, and sent it back. "I can't wait."

"What day is that again?" Bruce asked.

"Next Friday, Father."

Bruce frowned. "Dick, we have a big meeting that day."

"Bruuuce," Dick whined, "I promised Dami I would go. Can't you change the meeting?" He fixed Bruce with a pout and some puppy-dog eyes.

Bruce sighed. "Fine. I'll get it changed." Dick and Damian high-fived. "And I can't believe you're thirty years old and still giving me puppy-dog eyes."

Dick just laughed, not at all ashamed. "I can't believe you're fifty years old and still fall for it."

"Not to change the subject, but…." Tim paused. "Well, to change the subject: there's something in the paper today about new DNA technologies. Think that will help with the Grosvenor Fertility Clinic case?"

A groan went around the table. Although technically not (yet) a case for vigilantes, the case involving Dr. Theodore Grosvenor and his fertility clinic was a debacle and a half. Up until three weeks ago, Dr. Grosvenor was widely-hailed as the best fertility doctor in Gotham City. He could make anyone pregnant. Aging society women were clawing each other to get into Grosvenor's clinic and finally have the babies they had delayed for so long. Healthy young twenty-somethings were knocking each other over for the chance to be a surrogate (should someone need one) because Grosvenor's clients offered the best pay and healthcare options on the entire east coast. But all of that had blown up three weeks ago, when the surrogate carrying Veronica Vreeland's baby gave birth – and blood tests revealed the baby was not related to either Veronica or her husband. The child didn't even carry the surrogate's DNA. A week later it was discovered that the Vreelands' surrogate had been implanted with an embryo left over from the IVF treatments the Malvern family had undergone four years ago – embryos the Malverns thought had been destroyed.

Two days after the discovery, the police were called to Grosvenor's clinic to find that the good doctor had torched his files and committed suicide. Ever since, doctors and hospitals across Gotham had been inundated with families and pregnant women wanting DNA tests done on their children. Unfortunately, the results had not been pretty.

"I don't know, Tim," Bruce admitted. "I thought that case was about wrapped up to be honest."

"Hmm," Dick scanned the pages of the local news section. "Bruce is right. Today's article says that most of the kid's parents have been identified. A few actually have anonymous sperm donors and there's one surrogate whose fetus is still unidentified."

"That's odd," Tim commented. "If she's a surrogate, you'd think there would be some frantic couple out there, desperate to find her and their baby."

"You would think," Dick agreed.

Jason shrugged. "Maybe they forgot."

Damian snorted. "How do you not know you have a child out there?"

Dick, Tim, and Jason all turned to look at him. "Really, demon child?" Jason asked.

Damian huffed but did not offer a comeback. After another bite of pancake, he asked, "What are these people doing?"

"What do you mean, D?"

"Well, what are they doing with the kids? I mean, if they find out they aren't theirs? Giving them back?"

In his shock, Tim spit a mouthful of coffee all over the business section. Even Bruce lowered the newspaper to look at Damian. But it was Dick who spoke.

"Damian, they don't give the kids back. They are their children. Just because they don't have the same DNA doesn't mean they aren't their kids."

"Yeah," Tim added. "What Dr. Grosvenor did was morally repugnant but some of those kids are four, five, even six years old. You don't get rid of them!"

"The pregnant ones could abort, I guess," Jason put in, "but if the baby isn't theirs biologically it's kinda like adoption. You don't have to get rid of it, especially when you want a kid so much."

"But they aren't family!" Damian insisted.

"Oh, Damian," Dick said with a half-sad, half-indulgent smile. "When will you learn? DNA doesn't make a family, love does. Like our family. We may not be biologically related, but we're a family, through and through. And it's because – and I cannot stress this enough –" Dick gently wagged his finger at Damian to emphasize his point, "Love makes a family. Right, Bruce?"

Bruce smiled, actually genuinely smiled. "Right. And may I suggest this family get to work and school?"

Alfred, a tear in his eye, stepped forward, ready to take Damian to school. "I couldn't agree more, sir."

* * *

*I realize that Tim eventually took over Wayne Enterprises when Bruce was "dead." But that was partially because it fit in with the Red Robin storylines and not the Batman ones. Plus, Lucius kept asking Dick to do stuff and Dick did have to fulfill most of Bruce's social obligations. If Bruce were ever to really die, I think it would take all of them to keep the company running. And Dick is the only one who can keep them from killing each other.

# I think after five years, Damian would be on a first-name basis with those he feels particularly close to.


	2. Chapter 2

"So, is tonight a Batman night?" Dick asked, as he came down the stairs into the Batcave. Ever since Bruce had returned from the dead five years ago, he and Dick had shared the mantle of the Bat. Most of the time Dick went out as Batman, often with the now fifteen-year-old Damian in tow, but some nights he went out as Nightwing, just for the chance to relax and "feel like himself."

"Actually, I think it's a Nightwing night," Bruce replied, without turning away from the Batcomputer.

"Oh?"

"We need someone gentle, who works and plays well with others."

"And that would be me?"

"You're the most personable of the bunch."

"So what's the assignment," Dick asked as he pulled on his costume, making sure the finger stripes were perfectly aligned.

"Remember that surrogate from this morning's papers?"

"Sure."

"Gordon wants one of us to talk to her. Seems she's been saying some really crazy stuff."

"Such as?"

"Gordon's not sure, but, worst-case scenario, Grosvenor implanted this surrogate with the offspring of a super-villain."

Dick adjusted his mask. "Wow. That would be pretty bad."

"To say the least. Get the DNA samples from Gordon, too. I want to know who this baby is."

"Right-o, boss. Am I taking Damian tonight?"

"No. I need reinforcements. The four of us are heading out to the docks tonight. Rumor has it Hugo Strange is holed up out there."

"You're kidding? I thought he was dead."

Bruce sighed. "You and me both, chum; you and me both."

* * *

The surrogate was a twenty-three-year old blonde woman, a native of Boston and a graduate of Gotham State University. Her name was April Martin, and she was a generous person. She had decided to become a surrogate because she liked the idea of helping people have children; she personally hoped to have at least three children of her own once she was married. In her youth and naiveté, she could imagine no greater gift than giving a fertility-challenged couple a child.

But now she was scared. First because of the scandal surrounding Dr. Grosvenor's clinic, but now because the parents of her baby had failed to surface. April had no idea whose baby she was carrying, and that was unsettling, to say the least. And the more she talked about it with the police, the more she thought herself a fool. She had just wanted to help! Originally, it hadn't seemed so unreasonable that she never met the parents; Dr. Grosvenor's partner had assured her that some people were like that, choosing to see surrogacy as more of a business transaction. But the oddities kept piling up, and she was beginning to think that the GCPD saw her as a foolish, contemptible idiot – and all she had wanted to do was help!

"Ms. Martin," said a gentle, respectful voice. A voice April most certainly had not heard before.

"Yes?" she asked, looking around in bewilderment, trying to locate the body attached to the voice.

Finally, a handsome, muscular man stepped into the light, offering her his hand to shake. "I'm Nightwing. I'd like to talk to you about your experience at the Grosvenor Fertility Clinic."

April shook his hand and nodded. "Okay, sure. What would you like to know?"

"Anything. Everything. Just tell me what you know." He smiled at her, warm-hearted, kind, completely unlike the cops she had most recently spoken with. "I promise you, I'm a good listener."

So April told him everything, sparing not a single detail. Some of the stuff she hadn't even told the cops because they had annoyed her so much with their judgmental stares.

When she had finished, Nightwing thanked her. "Now I just want to clarify a few things. Is that alright?"

"Of course."

"You said you worked with Dr. Grosvenor's assistant?"

"No, his partner. Another doctor. Dr. Ciudat. Kinda short, balding, wore glasses. You know, no one's ever spoken about him in the papers. He's never been arrested."

"Hmm." Nightwing stroked his chin, deep in thought. "Did any other women see this doctor?"

"I…I don't know. Not when I was around. In the waiting room, none of the other patients knew his name, but -." April shrugged. "I thought maybe his patients were more spread out, that he had fewer than Dr. Grosvenor."

At this point, the cops would have snickered at April for being so trusting and naïve. But Nightwing just smiled. "A reasonable guess. Dr. Ciudat never hurt you, did he?"

"Oh, no! He was always really careful. He said I was carrying a treasure inside, so I needed to be extra careful. And I have been." She rubbed her belly tenderly. "These babies are going to be perfect for Mommy and Daddy."

"Babies?"

April leaned forward conspiratorially. "I'm carrying twins. I didn't say anything, though, because I didn't want it all over the papers," she whispered.

"A wise move," Nightwing praised.

"But I'm so scared now," April continued. "The parents haven't shown up, and the police and doctors can't find them. When the hospital ran the DNA tests, it didn't get any results. They aren't mine, but they aren't anyone else's who used the clinic either."

Nightwing nodded, patted her arm reassuringly. "Would you recognize the doctor if you saw him again?"

"Of course. He was pretty distinctive. Kind of ugly to be honest."

Nightwing nodded again and placed a book of mug shots on the table. He pushed it towards April. "Anyone look familiar?"

It took April almost ten minutes (the mug-shot book was huge), but eventually she found her man. "Him! It's definitely him. Dr. Ciudat!"

Nightwing glanced at the page. As he had suspected, April had picked out Dr. Hugo Strange. Commissioner Gordon had told him as much; based on April description of the doctor, Gordon and Bullock thought he sounded suspiciously like Hugo Strange.

"Is Dr. Ciudat a criminal?" April looked a bit panicked. She hadn't intended to give birth to a criminal's babies.

"Yes. But he's also a brilliant doctor. I'm sure you and the babies are perfectly healthy."

"Do you think they're his babies? The babies of some criminal?"

"I don't know, but I promise to find out. Why don't you go home and rest, keep taking care of yourself."

April nodded, and sniffed. She was tearing up. "I just wanted to help out an infertile couple. I didn't sign up to recreate _Rosemary's Baby_."

Nightwing tried to hide his smile. "The devil is not the father or mother of these babies."

"I know. I just hope some criminal isn't either."

"I'll let you know soon. Then you can make an informed decision."

April nodded. "But I'm nearly five months along. I don't have many choices left."

Nightwing helped her rise. "I understand."

After April had left, Nightwing went to the Commissioner's office to retrieve the DNA samples.

"Is it Strange?" Gordon asked.

"It is. Not only did she pick out his picture, but he even kept his name."

Gordon frowned in confusion. "Ciudat?"

"Romanian for Strange." And with that, Nightwing was gone.

* * *

It had been a successful night for everyone. Batman, Robin, Red Robin, and Red Hood had captured Hugo Strange and his minions.

"That guy is seriously screwed up in the head," Tim commented. "He kept ranting about his grandchildren."

"Yeah, the guy doesn't even have any kids, let alone grandkids," Jason agreed.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you, Dick?" Bruce asked.

Dick shrugged. He was going to play this one close to the vest because a couple of clues had made him seriously uneasy. "I'll let you know."

Bruce nodded. "You do that," he added curtly.

Tim, Jason, and Damian all gave Dick weird looks, but the eldest just waved them off, his gesture saying "it's nothing to worry about."

Damian went immediately upstairs to bed, while the rest stayed in the cave, doing various tasks. Eventually, Jason went to bed, then Tim, and finally even Bruce. Dick, meanwhile, was closeted in one of the labs, running DNA tests over and over again.

He was bewildered, but half-a-dozen tests of the same amniotic fluid didn't lie.

"Dick, are you coming to bed?" Tim suddenly asked. He had crept back down to the cave to make sure his brother was okay. "I mean, you still have work in the morning and even Bruce is already asleep."

Dick gave Tim a wan smile. "Oh yeah, sure. Thanks for reminding me. Time just got away from me."

"Any results?" Tim gestured towards the DNA tests.

"Eh, not yet," Dick lied. He wasn't ready to talk about it.

Since Tim was half-asleep, he wasn't inclined to question Dick. "Bummer. Get some sleep." And he was gone.

Dick cleaned up his stuff and then headed upstairs. He could process this information in his bed just as easily as he could in the cave. Because he knew he wasn't going to be getting any sleep tonight. Not after what he had just discovered.

Six DNA tests didn't lie. The babies were his. And Barbara's.

* * *

**I got the idea for Dick and Barbara to have twins from Batman #300 (June 1978). In that futuristic/imaginary story, Bruce mentions to Dick "those fine twin sons of yours, Bruce and James." I figured, with names like that, Barbara had to be the mother (although she's never named). Any opinions on whether the twins should be boys, girls, or one of each?**


	3. Explanations

**In case you aren't going to see _The Dark Knight Rises_ tonight (I'm not; I can't stay up that late), here's a little something Batman for you.  
**

* * *

**Whew – this is a long one. However, it contains all sorts of explanations. Suffice it to say, Hugo Strange is messed up.**

**This is also where it gets a little AU. I wanted to explore this idea, so I used Barbara.**

**This should become clear below, but Strange knows Bruce is Batman. Yet, at other times, Hugo thinks that he (Strange) is Batman. I pretty sure this is how it is in the comics; I hope I didn't mess it up. **

* * *

But how? Dick did a mental run-through of what he knew about Barbara's medical history. When the Joker had shot her ten years ago, he had also damaged her uterus; Barbara had to have an emergency hysterectomy at age twenty-five. But there had still been hope because the doctors had removed and frozen some of her eggs. And those eggs had waited patiently for Barbara to need them, safe in a cryogenic freezer at Wayne Memorial Hospital – until two years ago. When the Scarecrow, in a fit of pique because the new Chief of Medicine was a much-disliked former colleague from Gotham State University, had blown up part of the building.

As far as they knew, Barbara's eggs, along with innumerable other women's eggs and embryos (not to mention thousands of other samples), were blown sky high.

It had been the beginning of the end for them as a couple. Granted, they hadn't officially dated in years, but Dick still loved Barbara and he was pretty sure she loved him in return. They just hadn't done anything about it. But Dick, more than anyone else, was there to comfort Barbara in her hour of need. He listened, really listened, for hours as she wept over her loss, the loss of potential children, and, most painfully of all, her loss of choice. Scarecrow had robbed her of her right to choose. Even if she might never have used her frozen eggs, it wasn't the same. She would never be childless by choice – she would be childless because of the Scarecrow's terrorism. It was a hard pill to swallow, especially in light of everything she had suffered at the hands of the Joker.

Dick had done everything he could to cheer Barbara up and help her heal. They started to become a couple again. And then, without warning, Barbara had ended it. She had told Dick that he would make a wonderful father and she couldn't deny him that opportunity. They could never be together. And she was absolutely adamant about her decision, no matter how many times Dick had assured her that he loved her and would gladly forsake having children to be with her.

The months immediately following that break-up had been especially tense. Dick was angry that Barbara was making decisions about his life for him; Barbara found it too painful to be around someone she had told herself she couldn't have. But eventually they had resumed a friendship, of sorts. Barbara had started dating Samuel McDaniels, a slightly older divorced father of two. So far, they had been together almost a year. Dick hadn't found anyone yet.

So Dick knew how the eggs had made it out of Barbara's body. Beyond that, he was still at a loss. Obviously, Barbara's eggs had been taken before the Scarecrow blew up the cryogenics lab. As crazy as it seemed, Dick was beginning to think that Strange had stolen Barbara's eggs and then convinced Scarecrow to blow up the hospital to cover it up. It was somewhat convoluted, but not out-of-the-question for Gotham super-criminals.

But Dick was at a total loss when it came to Strange obtaining his sperm. He had never donated any, least of all to Grosvenor's clinic. And Strange couldn't have bought some off an enraged ex-girlfriend. Since his most recent break-up with Barbara, he had been so upset that he had sworn off women for a while. He had yet to jump back into the dating pool.

But the how was ultimately much less important than the "what next." What were he and Barbara going to do about these babies?

As Dick lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, he went through a range of emotions. He was shocked, angry, nervous, frightened, and finally, after many hours, excited.

The circumstances were terrible, to say the least, but Dick was excited at the prospect of becoming a father. Sure, he wasn't married, but he was thirty years old with plenty of money and a supportive family (although they would be pretty shocked at first). Maybe the vigilante lifestyle wasn't the best for children, but there were far worse home situations. Besides, the kids wouldn't be fighting crime as babies! Living with Dick at Wayne Manor, they would be loved and cared for and enjoy a childhood free of want. They would have the best cooking in Gotham (Alfred's) and the best uncles around (his fabulous brothers). And their grandfather would be Batman – how cool was that! Dick knew it would be a lot of work, but nothing worth doing was ever easy. And he desperately wanted to have children; deep down, he knew he would be a good father. Now was his chance. He would never forgive himself if he let someone else adopt these babies. His babies.

Besides, Barbara was awesome. He couldn't have asked for a better co-parent. She was smart, beautiful, caring… practically perfect. It would be a shock to her to find out she had children, but surely she would be happy? She had been so devastated when she thought Scarecrow had destroyed her only hopes for motherhood.

As Dick accepted that he was going to become a father, he could feel himself calming down and his body inching towards sleep. His last thought before he drifted off was that maybe, with a bit of luck, these surprise twins would mean that he and Barbara could finally be together.

* * *

Thirty-five-year old Barbara Gordon was more than a little surprised to see Dick at the District Attorney's Office. He never came to visit her at work.

"Hello, Beautiful," Dick said (entirely too seductively considering she had a boyfriend). "May I take you out to lunch?"

Barbara was clearly surprised. "Why?"

Dick sighed, and scooted right next to her wheelchair. Whispering in her ear, he said, "Shop talk."

"Ahhh." Barbara nodded. "Where are we going?"

"I have reservations at an Italian place a block away. Bruce likes it there. Quiet. Off the beaten path." Not bugged was understood, albeit unspoken.

"Sure, sounds great."

* * *

The two had engaged in idle chit-chat until their food arrived. Barbara kept wondering why Dick hadn't gotten down to business. Finally, she decided to ask.

"So, Dick?"

Dick looked up from his pasta. "Yes," he said around a mouthful of food.

"You wanted to talk about something."

Dick swallowed. "Right." He laid down his utensils and just looked at Barbara. He was at a loss as to how to begin this conversation.

"Well?"

"Barbara, I -." Dick sighed. "I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to be blunt. You know the Grosvenor Fertility Clinic scandal?"

"Of course. I'm an assistant district attorney, you know."

"Right." _Good move, Grayson_. "Well, maybe you heard about the one surrogate whose baby couldn't be identified?"

"Yes. Dad was freaking out about her."

"Well, I know the parents of her baby." He handed Barbara a manila folder. "Here."

"What's this?"

"Proof of what I'm about to say."

"Okay. So the baby's parents are?"

"Us."

Barbara gaped. "Excuse me?"

"I am the father and you are the mother. Oh, and it's actually two babies. She's carrying twins."

Barbara was shell shocked, to say the least. She had spent the last two years struggling to accept that she would never be a mother because Scarecrow had denied her that chance. That choice. And now she discovered she _was_ going to be a mother! But that, too, was tainted because someone else had made the decision for her. She hadn't had any say in the matter! Not only was it shocking, it was infuriating!

"What do you expect me to do about it?" Barbara demanded a hard edge to her voice.

"I…I…I," Dick spluttered. He was flustered and didn't know what to do in the face of Barbara's rising anger.

"Do you just expect me to be giddy with joy about this, Dick? Whoever did this -."

"Hugo Strange," Dick interrupted in a whisper.

"Well, Hugo Strange violated us. He had no right to impregnate us, so to speak, without our permission!"

"But… but… you were so sad when Scarecrow -."

"Because he took away my choice! He made the decision for me. Just like Strange!"

"You don't want kids?" Dick asked in a quiet, almost-heartbroken little voice.

"Not like this! This is at least one hundred different kinds of illegal. How can you be so calm about it?" Although she was keeping her voice low, since they were in public, Barbara was clearly enraged. "How can you be so accepting?"

Dick frowned. He was beginning to get a little angry himself. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because they're our children!"

"Our children that we didn't know about and didn't ask for!"

"They're still ours! How they were conceived shouldn't matter!"

"I've got news for you, Dick: it does."

"So what do you want to do about it? Abort them? Give them up for adoption? Pretend they don't exist and let the surrogate deal with the problem?"

"I don't know what I want! Sure, maybe I wanted kids, but I've come to accept that I would never have them. And now this! It's confusing!"

"It's not that confusing," Dick pouted. "They're our kids. And I want them."

"So that's it, huh? You're ready to be a dad?" Barbara sneered.

Anger flashed in Dick's eyes. "Yeah, I am. Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow, but I'll be ready when the kids arrive."

"Kids aren't just some cute decoration, Dick. They're a lot of work."

"I know that. I raised Damian for a year without Bruce. Hell, I'm mostly raising him now."

"And that's another issue. You want to bring babies into the same house as Damian?"

Dick's mouth hung open in shock. "What? You think Damian will hurt them?"

"He's vicious and protective of you, Dick."

"He's not that vicious and he can be loving, too, you know! If you take the time to get to know him and show him a little kindness."

"So you think you can just single parent twin babies because you're raising Damian? I've got news for you, Dick: babies are different from ten-year olds."

"I know that. I'm not an idiot."

"Really? Because you seem kind of idiotic to me."

"I'm the idiot!" Dick hissed. "I'm the idiot because I want to take responsibility for my own children. The circumstances of their conception might not have been perfect, but that is not their fault. They deserve a loving home – and I can provide that. Maybe I won't be the greatest father in the world and I'm definitely in over my head, but that's what being a parent is all about. No parent is perfect but I'm willing to try. More than willing – I want to try. I want these babies. I want to show them what a loving father is."

"So that's it. We're keeping the babies because you decided to."

"Under the circumstances, I think I have the right to keep the children if I want."

"And make me become a mother? You know, the role society has cast for mothers is way more time consuming than the one it has for fathers. I'm expected to change my lifestyle; you're not."

"I realize that. But it doesn't have to be that way; I'm ready to change my lifestyle. And I also realize that you aren't pregnant. No one has to know the children are yours if you don't want to be a mother."

Barbara's mouth opened but no sound came out.

"Look, we can say I used an anonymous egg donor and that's the end of that. You can be involved as much or as little as you like. Or you can admit you're their mother, and we'll parent the kids together. I'm prepared to do either one."

"Dick, I -."

"Think about it, Barbara. I don't expect an answer right now."

"But that's not fair for me to have children out there, yet act like I don't."

Dick narrowed his eyes. "Sadly, people do it every day. And you know what isn't fair? You not letting me have the babies I want. They are mine, too, you know."

"But Dick -."

Dick waved his hand. "Think about it, Babs."

"Dick, I can't -."

Dick Bat glared across the table; it was the most chilling expression Barbara had ever seen on his face. "Don't take these babies away from me, Barbara. Just don't."

And with that, he abruptly stood up, pulled a one-hundred-dollar bill out of his wallet, and placed it on the table. "I trust you can get back to the DA's office yourself."

Barbara was left alone at the table, with only the file folder for company.

* * *

"Am I going with you tonight?" Damian asked Dick. Damian was already dressed in his Robin outfit; Dick was standing before the wardrobe.

"Actually, Little D, I need to do something as Nightwing tonight."

"Well, can I come with you?"

Dick smiled sadly at Damian. "This is something I need to do alone."

Damian folded his arms across his chest in annoyance.

"Tomorrow night, Dami. I promise."

"Tt." But Damian sounded satisfied.

* * *

Hugo Strange was lying on his uncomfortable cot, staring at the ceiling, when he heard a voice at his window.

"Knock, knock."

Hugo rolled off his bed and came to the window. Nightwing stared back at him from the other side.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," Strange said in greeting.

"I've got a few questions for you."

"I can only imagine. But may I begin by saying how much I admire you. You're an excellent son."

Nightwing tried not to show just how disconcerted he felt. He was not Strange's son! However, one needed to be diplomatic when asking for answers. "Thank you. Now… about those babies."

"Ah, yes, my greatest creation. My gift to you. And Gotham."

"How did you do it?"

"Simple, really. It was so easy to steal those eggs, once I made the connection. And Scarecrow was only too willing to blow up the hospital."

"Well, how did you obtain my … contribution?"

Strange waved his hand merrily. "With patience and a tranquilizer dart. Do you remember a certain evening, Nightwing, when little Robin found you passed out on a rooftop?"

Dick frowned. "That was almost two years ago!"

"In-vitro takes time, my child. Surely you don't think April is the first surrogate." Seeing Nightwing's blank face, Strange went on. "Oh no, she's the fourth. All of the rest miscarried, but April, she was perfect. So healthy, so willing to do all the right things for the sake of the babies. It's hardly surprising that both eggs took."

"Why that clinic? Why Grosvenor?"

"Simple, really. I knew he was a fraud. He let me use his clinic, helped me with my work, and I kept quiet. An ideal arrangement, in truth."

Nightwing shook his head. "So you had no qualms about letting Grosvenor continue to tamper with people's fertility treatments?"

"I had more important things to do. I'm just thankful I had a successful surrogate before Grosvenor was shut down."

"Why?"

"Isn't that obvious?"

"No, why did you do it. Why create these children?"

"Because Gotham needs them. Our lives are but fleeting blips in the universe's grand scheme. We need another generation of crime fighters."

"Why not Batman?"

Strange scoffed and waved his hand dismissively. "Batman? He's past his prime." Dick made a mental note to keep that part of the conversation from Bruce. "Besides, the Bat has plenty of children. You. The others. I do not lack sons. But grandchildren are another story. I need them and you are the son most suited to provide them."

Dick frowned, noticing how Strange had slipped into the identity of the Bat (again) midway through his diatribe. "How do you figure? And why Oracle?"

Hugo grinned. "Initially because it was easy. Once I knew who she was, it was easy to get her genetic contribution. Eggs are hard to come by, you know. Sperm is easy. Any passed out male vigilante would do. But you -." Strange paused and wagged his finger at Nightwing. "You were the perfect choice. You two had flirtations. And together, you were the perfect specimens."

"Excuse me?"

"The two of you are smart – brilliant even – beautiful, athletic. Ideal genes make ideal babies."

Nightwing's mouth hardened into a tight frown. "Eugenics is a discredited theory, Strange."

Strange snorted. "Eugenics is frowned on because of its association with the Nazis. Not because of any intrinsic default in the theory."

"I vehemently disagree, but I'm not going to discuss medical ethics with a man who clearly hasn't any."

"You may be upset, Nightwing, but I did it for the greater good."

"Oh really?"

"Of course. As I said before, this city will need another generation of crime fighters. I need another generation to carry on my legacy. You and Oracle are eminently suited to provide it."

"And what if we don't want to?"

"How can you not? How could you be so selfish? I have not simply given you a gift – children – but I have given this city a gift – security. In thirty years, this city will bless the day those children were born. They will thank their parents for having them. And, when the citizens offer their thanks, they will be thanking me! Me! Because I have given these children to Gotham. I have saved the city." Hugo thumped his chest. "I, Batman, have secured Gotham's future."

Strange pressed his face up the window and hissed in a low tone, "And don't you fail me, Nightwing."

Dick stiffened. "I will never fail Gotham City. Or my family."

Hugo leaned back from the window, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Good boy. I knew you wouldn't. I knew you would accept your duty." There was an awkward pause. "And bring the kids around to see grandpa sometime."

Nightwing leaned into the glass. "Strange, if you ever hurt my children, I will break you," he grounded out between clenched teeth. And without waiting for a reply, Nightwing vanished.

Strange gazed out the window, eyes fixated on the spot Nightwing had once occupied. "I knew he was the best choice for parenthood," Hugo mused to himself.

* * *

**Hugo Strange needed to steal everything. I don't think Dick would donate sperm – he would want to know his kids. I know I made him a little less "slutty," but I think that works. He's not sleeping around to sleep around – he cares about the women he has sex with. Plus, what qualifies you as slutty? I think it's fun to joke about Dick as a whore, but he's not a cad.**

**Anyway, with Dick and Barbara I tried to portray two very different reactions. I might have made her reaction a bit harsh, but I would pretty much react as I had her react. **


	4. Telling the Bats

**My bad that I neglected this. Thanks to "Guest" for prodding me.**

**Someone asked about Steph and Cass. I don't know their characters very well, but I'm thinking about bringing them in (especially Steph). Just not yet. Please don't hate me.**

* * *

It had been two whole days since he had talked to Barbara and Dick was beginning to get a little antsy. He wanted to know how to proceed. He had already set April up with an obstetrician at Wayne Memorial, telling her it was the gift of an anonymous donor, but that ruse wouldn't hold forever. Pretty soon word needed to get out about these babies. But were they going to be Dick Grayson's? Or Dick Grayson's and Barbara Gordon's?

It was with great nervousness and great relief, then, that Dick picked up Barbara's telephone call, just before lunch.

"I've thought about it," Barbara said.

"And?" Dick's breath caught in his throat.

"I want the babies. I'm still furious about the circumstances, but I'll never forgive myself if I let this opportunity slip by. I did want to be a mother, and now that I have a chance, I'd be a fool to give it up."

"Oh, Barbara. I'm so glad. You know, there's no one in this world I'd rather raise my children with."

"Don't get too sappy, Short Pants. There's going to be a lot of practical things to figure out. Such as who gets custody when and things like that." Barbara suspected that Dick would want primary custody. And, to be honest, she would be only too glad to give it to him.

Dick sighed. Barbara was sucking all the joy out of parenthood already. "If you say so."

"Have you told Bruce yet?"

Dick laughed uneasily. "No. I was waiting for your answer."

"Then let's tell him tonight. I'll stop by the manor around 7?"

"Why do we have to tell Bruce first?" Dick whined.

_Because he's paranoid. Because he'll freak. Because he's Batman_. "Because I said so," Barbara stated.

"Fine." Dick sighed. "I'll see you at 7."

This was going to be fun.

* * *

After dinner, Bruce had been expecting dessert. What he got instead was Dick asking him, Alfred, Jason, Tim, and Damian to come into the sitting room. He was even more surprised to find Barbara already in there. When had she arrived?

Once everyone was seated, Dick went over to stand behind Barbara's wheelchair. "Okay, so Babs and I have something to tell everyone, and we only want to have to do it once."

Five pairs of eyes stared back at Dick. He gulped and decided that short and sweet and to-the-point was the way to go. "Remember the surrogate with the unidentified fetus?"

A chorus of silent nods.

"Okay, good. Well, I've identified the fetus – well, actually fetuses because she's carrying twins – and the babies belong to Babs and me. We're going to be parents. Together."

Everyone but Bruce looked completely shocked. "I was afraid of this," Bruce murmured.

"WHAT!" shouted Barbara, Jason, Tim, and Damian. "You knew?" they accused.

"No. It's just not entirely unexpected after Strange made mention of his grandchildren the other night."

"They're not his grandchildren," Barbara spat in disgust.

"No," Dick soothed. "But Hugo thinks he's Batman. And he purposely created Oracle and Nightwing's babies. Therefore, they are his grandchildren in his mind."

"I'm not letting that creep anywhere near our kids." Barbara glared at Dick, as though he was contemplating taking their children to visit Strange.

"Neither am I," Dick defended himself. "I was just explaining things."

"How long until the birth?" Bruce was all business.

"Umm, April – that's the surrogate – is almost at five months."

"Hmm. And it's twins."

"Yes, a boy and a girl." Dick looked at Barbara. "I forgot to tell you that earlier today."

"It's okay. I read it in the file."

"Twins often come early. I'll say we have until mid-June before the kids arrive," Bruce interposed.

"Yeah, we'll want to be ready in advance," Dick agreed.

"So what are you going to do?" Bruce demanded.

"Prepare to become parents?" Dick suggested.

"No, I meant what are you going to tell the media?"

"Really, Bruce? We just found out Babs' eggs weren't blown up by the Scarecrow, Strange stole my sperm, we're having babies, and you're worried about the media?"

"Well, they're going to find out, and probably sooner rather than later. You, _we_, need a plan."

"Just tell 'em Goldie can't keep it in his pants," Jason joked. "Ow!" Tim had punched him on the shoulder.

"I can to keep it in my pants," Dick insisted. "I always could, but I've mellowed with age."

"That won't work anyway," Bruce said sternly.

"We can just say we decided to have kids as friends," Dick offered.

"Not good enough," Bruce insisted. "We need an airtight explanation. How many people know Barbara's eggs were destroyed? That will require an explanation."

"I certainly didn't go around broadcasting it!" Barbara gasped.

"Besides, Grosvenor had hospital privileges at Wayne Memorial," Dick explained. "He could easily have taken Barbara's eggs at some point. Grosvenor worked with Gotham society; we can just say Babs and I wanted to have babies together, but Grosvenor was terrible at communication, and we didn't realize we had any until the scandal. People will believe that since Grosvenor was so shady."

Bruce nodded. "Hardly an airtight explanation, but I think it will work since medical records are private. But that only explains the how and not the why. Why did you two decide to have kids together when you're unmarried? How will this work if one of you finds a spouse? Given your unique situation, you can't claim this was an accidental pregnancy. Surrogates don't get pregnant by accident."

Dick glowered. _Damn Bruce and his media savvy. Why can't he just focus on the babies? Why do we immediately have to go into crisis mode?_

Barbara was contemplative. "You raise a good point, Bruce. This will seem especially odd with Samuel in the picture. Of course, we could say we thought about it years ago and then Grosvenor went ahead without our permission."

"That might work," Bruce mused.

"Or we could just get married," Dick suggested innocently.

Barbara craned her neck to face Dick, looking at him like he had grown a second head. "WHAT!?"

"Come on, Babs, you heard me. I know you aren't deaf," Dick joked.

"That what had nothing to do with hearing. It was shock over your idiotic suggestion."

Dick got defensive. "Oh, really? And what was so idiotic about it?"

"Everything," Barbara shot back. "You can't possibly be serious. How on earth could we get married?"

"Geez, you act like you don't like me at all. Haven't we been friends for years? Didn't we date? Didn't I ask you to marry me before? And didn't you say yes? I should have thought a marriage proposal from me would be met with a little less attitude."

"I should have thought you would be sensible enough to not even suggest such a ridiculous idea!"

"So now I'm idiotic, ridiculous, and insensible?" Dick growled.

"Yes, you clearly are if you think we should get married." Barbara shot back.

"Okay, all-knowing Oracle, explain to me why this is the most horrible suggestion ever!"

Barbara drew in her breath. "Because you're the son of Bruce Wayne and I'm a cop's daughter."

"You have got to be kidding me!" Dick cried. "That never mattered before."

"Well, maybe that's not the main reason," Barbara amended.

"Then what is!"

"I … I just don't know if I can be with you."

"But I love you! I have for years. I want to marry you more than anything, Barbara. And I thought you loved me!"

Barbara looked at the floor. She felt terrible admitting it, but it was true. "I do love you, but I just don't know if I can do it. You remind me too much of the past. Before the wheelchair. And it hurts."

Silence filled the room. Finally, Dick said, "But the wheelchair doesn't matter to me. I love you."

Barbara sighed. "I know, but it matters to me. I'm not sure if I can do it. When I'm with you, I feel like I'm living in the past, not the future."

"So that's why you can be with Samuel?"

"Yes," Barbara admitted, almost sadly. "He didn't know me back then."

Dick got down on his knees in front of Barbara and looked into her eyes. "Barbara, I love you so much. I desperately want to marry you. The wheelchair doesn't matter to me, but I understand if it does to you. However, I hope you can get over that and accept my love." Dick stood up. "I'll wait. Take as much time as you need to think about it."

Barbara sniffed, trying to hold back tears. Dick was so good to her, and a part of her felt she didn't deserve it. Finally, she nodded. "I'll think about it."

An awkward silence filled the room as everyone tried to avoid eye contact with each other. Eventually, Barbara cleared her throat. "I should get going. It was nice seeing you all."

A chorus of subdued "good-byes" followed Barbara as she wheeled out the door.

* * *

"You don't need that bitch!" Damian flopped down on the couch beside Dick.

Dick sighed. "Damian, what have I told you about using that word?"

"Not to use it."

"Well?"

Damian threw his hands in the air. "She deserved it! How could I not?"

"I'm with Damian on that one." Jason plopped down into a nearby armchair. "I mean, how many times do you have to ask her to marry you before she understands that you're serious about it?"

"Maybe she doesn't love me," Dick moaned.

"Dick, I don't think that's true," Tim comforted, sitting down on the couch on Dick's other side. "I think Barbara meant it when she said she loved you."

"Then why won't she marry me?" Dick whined.

Tim shrugged. "I don't know. I'm hardly the expert on ladies, here."

"Arggh," was Dick's only response, as his head flopped back against the couch.

* * *

Bruce, meanwhile, was escorting Barbara to the door. The two went in silence, but when Barbara reached the foyer, she stopped and turned to look at Bruce.

"What do you think of this?"

"That sadly, I am indeed old enough to be a grandfather."

Barbara rolled her eyes. Men sometimes. "I meant about us getting married."

Bruce sighed, choosing his words carefully. "Barbara, this is a personal decision. You have to make it for yourself. I can't make it for you."

"But -."

"And Dick is my son. I would do anything to make him happy."

"I see." Barbara mentally scolded herself for ever thinking, even for a second, that Bruce could have been a source of unbiased advice.

Bruce opened the huge front door, and Barbara wheeled out. "I'll be in touch," she called back as she entered her van.

* * *

**I might have made everyone a tad too accepting, but I figured the Bat Family has learned to roll with the punches by now. Plus, Bruce probably had it figured out before the big announcement anyway. Oh, and I'm not good at writing angst.**

**I hope I got Barbara and her reasons right. I thought I remembered from the Nightwing Vol. I run that Babs sometimes said she hesitated to date Dick because it always made her think of the past.**

**So should they get married? I'm really undecided about that.**


	5. Woman Talk

**Since it took me forever to update, I have posted two chapters. Forgive me for taking so long!**

* * *

Barbara hadn't been home ten minutes when there was a knock on her door. She was really tempted not to answer it, but that wasn't going to be an option.

"Barbara?" shouted the voice from the other side of the door. "It's Steph. Let me in."

Barbara immediately complied. Steph was probably the one person she felt she could – and should – talk to.

"Tim texted me," Steph explained, moving to sit on the couch. "He thought you might need some 'girl talk.'"

Barbara made a face and Steph laughed. "Don't worry. I told him, in no uncertain terms, that any talk we have would be 'women talk.'"

"So what do you know?" Barbara asked her young friend.

Steph shrugged. "Strange knocked you up via a third party. Dick's the daddy and he wants to marry you. That about cover it?"

"Pretty much."

Steph grinned. "So, can I be a bridesmaid?"

"Steph!" Barbara was shocked. "I never said I was going to marry him!"

Steph continued grinning. "Yeah, I know. So are you?"

"I don't know. I don't think so." Barbara paused, thinking. "No," she said firmly after some reflection. "No, I'm not. Now isn't the right time."

Steph nodded. "Will it ever be the right time?"

"I don't know. But not now. I have Samuel…" Barbara trailed off.

"Is Samuel really what's standing in the way?" Steph probed. _Must she be so insightful?_ Barbara mentally cursed.

"Yes. No. Maybe." Barbara sighed. "I don't know."

"You still love Dick?"

"I'm always going to love him."

"But is it 'let's-get-married love' or fond-friends love?" Steph looked searchingly at Barbara.

Barbara dropped her head. Steph leaned in. "Both," the older woman admitted, sounding almost ashamed. After all, she had a new boyfriend.

Steph pondered that information for a few minutes. Finally she announced, "I buy that response." The two sat in comfortable silence. "But you still won't marry him?"

Barbara gave a slight smile. "Let me put it to you this way, Steph. If Tim asked you to marry him tomorrow, would you say 'yes?'"

Steph laughed. Damn, Barbara was good. "No," she admitted. "That doesn't mean I think we'll never get married, but…." She trailed off.

"Now isn't a good time?" Barbara supplied.

"Yeah. In a nutshell. We haven't dated for a while. Things need to change. We couldn't just 'get married.'"

"Exactly."

"Is that what Dick was asking?"

"I think so, yes. He's romantic and he thinks we could just pick up where we left off. And maybe he could. But I can't."

"I know the feeling," Steph commiserated.

A short while later, the two were sipping tea and pretending to watch a sitcom on television. Steph decided now was the perfect moment to talk about the other elephant in the room.

"So. The babies?"

Barbara sighed and set down her cup. "Yes, the babies. I'm so confused."

"I bet."

"At first I was furious. But I want them to have a good life. And Dick and I can give that to them."

"Sure, of course. But?" Steph prompted. She knew there was a "but" in there.

"I'm not ready. And I'm not sure I ever will be."

"You'll learn."

"Maybe I don't want to."

"Then why did you tell Dick you were ready to be the mother?"

Barbara sighed. "Because he wanted to hear it. Dick needs those babies. He wants them, and I think he's ready to parent. And I know it would break his heart to pretend he doesn't know who their mother is. And he's a terrible liar." A small, fond smile played on Barbara's lips.

Steph smiled, too. "Yeah, he is."

"I thought Dick and I could do joint custody or something, but now -? With him suggesting marriage? I can't do it."

"Do what?"

"Any of it!" Barbara burst out. Then she sighed. "Well, that's not strictly true. I can do some of it. But I will need to scale back. I can't be a full-time parent. It'll be too much. Too much time. Too much …" She drifted off.

"Too much interaction with Dick?" Steph offered, seeing where this was headed.

Barbara closed her eyes and nodded. "Exactly. I want this to be as easy as possible for both of us. And for him, that means being able to point to someone and say to his kids: 'that's your mommy.''

"And for you?"

"For me it means taking a back seat."

"No one said you had to split things 50/50, you know. I think Dick would be overjoyed to take on 90 percent of the work. For what it's worth," Steph offered.

"I know and that makes me feel guilty," Barbara admitted. "I should want to be a mother."

Steph reached over and touched Barbara's hand. "Don't ever tell yourself what you should and shouldn't feel. That's not the way feelings work."

"I know. But society -."

"Society can stick it," Steph interrupted. "Society might tell you women should be doting mothers who live for their kids, but society doesn't know what's best for you. Or for your kids. Only you know."

Barbara smiled. She had the beginnings of tears in her eyes.

"And what's best for you and your children?" Steph asked earnestly.

"Letting Dick be the main parent. He'll be better for the children. But is it wrong of me to give them up?"

Steph had a wry grin on her face. "Well, first of all, you're not giving them up. You're simply letting Dick be the primary parent. Kids live at the Manor and he does the day-to-day stuff. But you're not going to act like they don't exist, right?"

"No, of course not. I just can't be there all the time. It's too painful. Both because of Dick and because of… of…"

"All the horrors you went through in the past that led to these children?"

"Yes." Barbara left it at that. She didn't think she could ever fully put into the words the strange torrent of emotions she felt concerning her reproductive ups and downs.

Steph patted her hand again. "And two: there's nothing wrong with allowing someone else to give your child the life you cannot. Dick can give the babies the love, affection, and attention you, at the moment, think you can't."

"Yes." Barbara buried her head in her hands. "I love them, but I don't think I can be a good mother. The issue has too much baggage for me."

"Barbara, look at me," Steph ordered quietly. Barbara obeyed, and Steph locked eyes with her. "It's no coincidence Tim texted me, you know. I know exactly what you're feeling."

Barbara nodded. Of course Steph did. "Do you ever regret it? The adoption?"

Steph turned aside and gazed off into space. "No. I never stop thinking about my daughter, and I'll always love her, but I don't regret giving her up for adoption. I couldn't give her what her adoptive parents have." Steph paused. "She's better off with them. Sometimes it's painful to admit that, but it's true. And I know I did the right thing. And that's what matters."

Barbara nodded. "That's what matters." She repeated Steph's words absently, busy thinking about the future. The prospect of allowing Dick to essentially single-parent seemed like the best bet for now. It would give him what he wanted and allow her more time to heal and come to grips with the situation. Maybe someday, in the future, she could parent more, even marry Dick, but not now. Not now.

* * *

**I hope this was okay. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that one of the two was going to need to parent more than the other (well, the way I want it to go anyway). Dick is way more excited than Barbara, and I think he's mentally more ready to step up to the plate because the situation is more traumatic for Babs. In addition, Dick suggesting marriage (as he did in the comics) seems like something that would make Barbara realize 1) she isn't truly ready for this and 2) the two of them need more space. One of them needs to step back because it isn't emotionally healthy for them to get back together "for the kids."**

**And as a woman, I think I would have so many conflicting emotions, I wouldn't be able to think straight. Consequently, Barbara is having a more difficult time.**

***I'm not sure if Steph had a son or a daughter, so I just picked. Correct me if I am wrong!**


	6. Fluff

**Since it took me forever to update, I have posted two chapters. Forgive me for taking so long! Be sure to read chapter 5 as well.**

**This chapter is much fluffier.**

* * *

Damian was in his room, working on his homework, when Dick opened the door.

"Psst, Little D," he hissed through the crack.

"Come in, Dick."

Dick slipped in, closed the door, and sat on the bed. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Commence conversation."

Dick made a sad face. Damian sighed. "I'm coming," he replied as he left his desk and came over to the bed and sat beside Dick. "What do you want?"

"Umm, well." Dick looked uncomfortable. "I just want you to know that even though I'm going to have kids of my own soon, I'll always have time for you."

"So you say."

"No, I mean it. You'll always be my brother and my partner. We go together like peas and carrots."

"_Forest Gump_ references are not necessary."

"Hey, you know that movie?"

"Of course. It's a treacle-y piece of crap, despite its fame."

"I know, I love it." Dick just grinned broadly at Damian for a minute. "But seriously, Little D. I just want to emphasize that me having my own kids will in no way detract from the love I have for you."

"That is acceptable."

"Acceptable? I'm trying to tell you that no one else will ever take your place in my heart!"

"You're so maudlin. Be that as it may, I trust that your love for me will not lessen. However, I imagine the cuddles will."

"What do you mean, Dami? Cuddles are like love – the supply is infinite! I will always have room for more."

"Well, I would not be averse to giving some of my cuddles to your children."

Dick slapped Damian on the back. "Aww, Damian, you're going to cuddle your niece and nephew? You're the best!"

"Grayson! That is not what I meant! I meant -."

"Gotta go, Dami. You have homework to do anyway." And with a quick ruffle of Damian's hair, Dick was out the door and down the hall.

"Tt." Although he would never admit it, Damian sincerely hoped that Dick would keep his promise.

* * *

"Timmy!" Dick practically skipped into his brother's room.

Tim looked up from his computer and smiled. "Hey, Dick."

Dick plopped down on the edge of Tim's bed. "So, Timbo, I want you to know that just because I'm becoming a dad doesn't mean our relationship has to change. I will always love you and have time for you."

Tim chuckled. "Calm down, Dick. You don't have to explain anything to me. People grow up and have families. It's how life goes."

"Well, yes -."

"Dick, I'm happy for you. I really am. In fact, I'm looking forward to being an uncle."

"Really!" Dick grinned ecstatically. "You know I think you'll be the best uncle ever."

"I certainly intend to be."

"Ooh and you can teach my kids to hack computers and other techy stuff!"

"You know, Babs could probably do that."

"Yes, but it will be more funny doing it with Uncle Timmy."

"I would prefer to be Uncle Tim, not Timmy."

"Well, I can probably arrange for that. But only if you do something for me."

"Name it."

"Be the kids' godfather."

"It would be an honor."

Dick went over to Tim's desk and hugged him. "Thanks, Tim. I love you."

* * *

Dick found Jason in his room, polishing some knives. "Jason, I want you to know that -."

"Yeah, yeah. You'll always love me and have time for lame-ass cuddles even though you're going to be a dad. Damian warned me."

"Oh." Dick looked a bit sad that he wasn't going to get to give his speech. "Well, I love you, Jay."

"I realize that."

"So, can I have a hug?"

"Get out of my room before I cut you." Jason flashed the knife he was currently polishing.

Dick backed out the door. "Well, I hope you don't say that to your niece and nephew when they want a hug!"

* * *

Alfred was in the kitchen, drying the dinner dishes. Dick picked up a towel and began to assist.

"I am delighted with your impending fatherhood, Master Dick. Children really help enliven this drab manor."

Dick grinned, thinking of his own antics as a child. "Alfred, do you think you can handle two more? And babies, at that?"

Alfred smiled wryly. "A true gentleman's gentleman is prepared for all circumstances."

"Glad to hear it, Alf. Because I have a feeling I'm going to need all the help I can get."

"Nonsense, young sir. You are the most nurturing of the lot of you. You will be a most outstanding father."

"I think I'd be willing to settle for satisfactory father."

Alfred affectionately shook his head and gentle reproved, "Now Master Dick, when has it ever been acceptable to aim for anything less than the best?"

* * *

Dick found Bruce sitting behind his desk in the study, seemingly looking over paperwork. Dick sat down in the chair across the desk.

"Are you okay with this, Bruce?"

"I'm less than thrilled with how this situation compromises our security. Your suggested explanations are merely serviceable, although they will have to do if we cannot come up with anything more plausible. And what about Jim? He's bound to figure a few things out." Bruce sighed. It hurt his brain to dwell too much on how Strange had weakened the protective wall surrounding their secret identities.

Dick frowned. "I was actually asking about me becoming a father."

"Well, I'm not looking forward to being awakened in the middle of the night by screaming babies -."

"You're never here in the middle of the night, so early morning is more like it."

"All right then. I'm not looking forward to being awakened in the early morning by screaming babies, but that's life. For what it's worth, I think you'll be a great father. And you're ready for it."

"Thank you, Bruce. That really means a lot to me."

"I also hope things work out with Barbara."

Dick just sighed. "Yeah."

"Even if they don't, you'll be a great dad. And you'll have our support." There was a pause, as the two sat together in companionable silence. "Do you want to put the babies in the old nursery?"

"Your nursery?"

"Yes, and the room you were in when you first arrived. Before you moved to the room you have now."

Dick stroked his chin. "That would be nice. It's certainly big enough for two babies."

"Any thoughts about names?"

Dick laughed. "Any suggestions?"

"No, no. Not for first names at least."

Dick arched an eyebrow. "You want them to be Grayson-Wayne?"

"Well, it is technically your last name, even if you don't use it."

"Now, now, I use it for business stuff."

"And I appreciate that."

"It's just that it's kind of a mouthful. Too long to use 'socially,' as it were."

Bruce half-smiled. "I know. I was just hoping …."

"No worries, Bruce. It'll be Grayson-Wayne, so long as Babs approves." Dick smirked. "If I want them to get my piece of Wayne Enterprises after I croak, I better stick Wayne in the name."

"You know that won't be a problem. I take care of my family."

"Bruce, I was only kidding."

"I know, I know. But speaking of the future, I should get Lucius started on the paperwork for the trust funds. Do you think five million each is a good starting deposit?"

"Bruce, they aren't even born yet!"

"You're right. Better make it ten million each."

"Bruce!"

Bruce physically waved Dick's objections away. "I'll take care of it."

"But it's too much."

"Nothing is too much for my family. You should know that by now."

Dick smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

"Oh, and you're going to need another car. Your Porsche isn't exactly a family car."

"Bruce, you have tons of cars!"

"I'm thinking maybe a Rolls Royce. Smooth ride, thick build for security."

Dick sighed affectionately. Bruce was _so_ not listening to him. "Whatever you say."

"I'll get working on it in the morning."

Dick rose. "Sounds good." He started to leave, then, on reaching the door, turned around to look again at Bruce. "And thank you again, Dad. It really means so much."

Bruce smiled. "You're welcome, son."

After Dick left, Bruce removed the few loose papers he had placed over what he was really looking at. With a faint smile, he gazed at pictures of Dick when he was little: playing outside, at the zoo, school events, and other childhood staples. Although it made him feel a bit old, he was looking forward to having grandchildren. He decided he needed to make some miniature batarangs because you were never too young to learn proper throwing techniques.

* * *

**Not sure if the characters really do the hyphenated name in the comics, but some people have done that in fanfic, so I'll go with it.**

**I also figure Bruce, since he's not always so great about expressing his emotions, is probably a master of saying "I love you" through gifts. The gifts speak what his words often cannot.**


End file.
